


Run Away With Me (Or I'll Keep Singing)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dude, there's a guy outside, and I think he's serenading you.”</p><p>In which Dean can't stop singing, Sam is embarrassed, and true love is the answer to everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run Away With Me (Or I'll Keep Singing)

**Author's Note:**

> Songs included are "Sam" by Suede, "I Love You, Samantha" by Bing Crosby, and "Run Away With Me" from The Unauthorized Biography Of Samantha Brown

It starts with Sam's roommate shaking him out of sleep.

“Dude, there's a guy outside, and I think he's serenading you.”

Sam blinks up at Josh in utter confusion.

“What?”

That's when he hears it.

A voice, wafting in through the open window. 

“Oh, oh, oh, Sam, oh, oh, oh, Sam...”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sam groans. The voice is familiar enough that it's probably one of his friends playing a joke on him. He is never going to live this down.

“Oh, oh, oh, Sam...”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,” Sam grumbles, lurching out of bed and over to the window. Rubbing at his eyes with one fist, he squints through the darkness, trying to identify the figure standing underneath the street lamps lining the outside of the dorm. 

“You're my main man.”

Sam's hand flies away from his face to clutch at the windowsill as he stares at the man two stories below him, gazing imploringly up. 

No wonder that voice had been familiar, he thinks.

“Dean?” he chokes out. It doesn't make sense, but it's definitely his brother, leather jacket and all, standing there.

Dean doesn't answer him, just shifts his feet and starts singing again, a different tune than before.

“I love you...Samantha,” he croons. “And my love will never die.”

Sam gapes.

Josh, leaning out the window beside him, barks out a laugh. “Did he just call you Samantha?”

Sam doesn't even need to confirm it, because Dean just keeps singing.

“Remember, Samantha, I'm a one-gal guy.”

Josh is killing himself laughing, but Sam is so far from amused, he's practically miles away in the other direction.

“Dean, what the fuck are you doing here?” he says furiously. “What are you doing?”

Dean doesn't give any indication he's heard Sam, despite the fact that he's still staring up at him with huge, dewy eyes.

“Together, Samantha, we could ride a star and ride it high, remember Samantha, I'm a one-gal guy.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Sam yells, done with trying to keep it quiet. Dean's already gathering a slight crowd on the sidewalk. “'Cause this is not funny!”

“Yes, it is!” Josh cackles.

“Shut up, man,” Sam snarls.

“And if some distant day you decide to say,” Dean sings, spreading his hands out wide. “Get along, go away, goodbye! Remember, Samantha, I'm a one-gal guy.”

Sam ignores the slight twinge of guilt. This is the first time he's seen Dean since he left him and Dad for college seven months ago. Seeing him now reminds Sam of when he saw him last, when Dean drove him to the bus station, silent and miserable, and gave him one last bone-crushing hug before letting him go.

This is the first time he's seen Dean since...and Dean decides to announce his arrival by singing to him?

Love songs?

“When you want to talk like a normal human being,” Sam shouts down to his brother. “You can come up and see me!”

With that, he slams the window shut, cutting off the sound of Dean's musical reply. 

“Dude,” Josh says, the corners of his mouth twitching. “That's kinda rude, isn't it? Guy's confessing his love and you just shut him out?”

Sam glances quickly out the window to see that Dean's gone. He'd almost think that he'd hallucinated it except for the fact that the crowd of people is still there, most of them girls staring disapprovingly up at Sam's window and shaking their heads. 

Just then, there's a knock at the door.

Sam has a sinking suspicion that he knows who it is, but he strides over and opens the door anyway.

Seeing Dean standing directly in front of him is like a punch in the gut. He's exactly the same as Sam remembers, right down to the way he stands. His cheeks are flushed—he probably ran up the stairs to get here this fast—and his hands are bunched into fists at his side, his chest heaving.

Before Sam can say anything at all, Dean throws up a hand to stop him.

“Let me catch my breath,” he wheezes, and Sam is so relieved to hear Dean's regular speaking voice that he almost thinks this bizarre musical debacle is over. Then Dean opens his mouth again.

“This is really hard,” he sings. “If I start to look like I'm sweating, well, it's 'cause I am.”

Sam is struck dumb. Somehow it's even weirder when Dean is singing it right to his face. This is not normal. People don't do this. Dean would not do this!

“Are you under a curse?” Sam asks.

Dean shuffles his feet nervously, then looks up and meets Sam's eyes with determination.

“I'm not good with words, but that's nothing new. Still I have to try to explain—”

“No, no you really don't,” Sam says, trying to cover Dean's mouth. Dean struggles away and keeps singing through their mutual flailing.

“—what I want to do with you. With yooooooouuu!”

Dean plants his hand in the centre of Sam's chest and pushes him back. Sam tries to tackle him again, but he's frozen abruptly by the intensity of Dean's eyes.

“Run away with me,” Dean begs. “Let me be your ride out of town, let me be the place that you hide. We can make our lives on the go, run away with me!”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam whispers. Dean sounds serious—as serious as anyone can sound when they're singing.

“Texas in the summer is cool. We'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac, looking back. Sam, you're ready, let's gooooooo...”

Doors are opening down the hallway and people are poking their heads out curiously. Sam covers his face in humiliation. He is never going to live this down.

Dean is unfazed by their audience.

“...anywheeeerre. Get the car packed and throw me the key. Run away with me!”

Sam can hear the titters and whispers of the people gathering to watch. His face burning, he drops his protective hands and grabs Dean's arm, trying to tug him into his room.

“Dean, can we not do this in the hallway?” he hisses. 

Dean bats his hands away again.

“Sam, I know it's fast,” he continues. “I'm in love with you.”

“Oh, god,” Sam whimpers. 

Sam knows now that this has to be involuntary singing, but those words still blow him away, flashes of heat shooting through his body. Girls up and down the hall are cooing and guys are laughing, and he's getting serenaded by his brother in public. If his embarrassment reaches any higher levels, he's going to melt.

“Sam, it's crazy but, Sam, I'm crazier for you...”

Dean's getting more and more flamboyant with his gestures, like he's singing this to someone miles away instead of right in front of him. Seemingly the entire dorm is watching this go down.

“I have these plans, Sam, I have these plans,” Dean sings. “Of a house that we build on the bay when we run away!”

He takes a deep breath to launch into the chorus, and Sam cannot take this anymore. 

“Let me be your—”

“Okay!” Sam shouts, seizes Dean's shoulders. “I'll run away with you or whatever, just...stop singing! The answer is yes!”

Dean stops singing mid-line, so abruptly that it's jarring. The strange misty look in his eyes vanishes, replaced by overwhelming relief and gratitude.

“YES!” he yells. “Thank fuck that's over!”

Then, naturally, he grabs Sam's face and pulls him into a huge, triumphant kiss.

The hallway explodes into applause.

Dean jerks back and Sam gasps in a breath, his lips tingling and his brain feeling like it just got run over by a transport truck. But instead of his brother realizing what he just did and backing away in horror, Dean merely reaches behind Sam, grabs Josh, pulls him out into the hallway, and yells, “Sorry, buddy, you're getting sexiled tonight.”

Then he turns back to Sam, still frozen like a fool who's just been kissed by his brother, and shoves him backwards into the room, stalking after him and kicking the door shut behind him. 

The cheers and whoops from outside have barely been cut off before Dean's on him again, lips pressing Sam's slack ones apart, tongue diving in to investigate his tonsils. 

“Fucking musical theatre geek witch—” Dean gasps out between kisses. “—she fucking told me I didn't understand the—” Dean's hands are sliding up Sam's side, rucking up his shirt. “—true love expressed through song so—” And Dean's thumbs are pressing into the ridge of Sam's hips, right at the spot that sends shocks through his entire body. “—she cursed me to keep singing until my true love said yes to me.”

“Oh,” Sam pants. Dean smiles at him and kisses him again, a slow and certain melding of their mouths. Sam can't help but think that there are things that need to be said here, things like: “but we're brothers”, or “wait, I'm your true love?”, or “you do realize we're both straight guys, right?”, but Sam's arching into the pressure of Dean's hand on his stomach, and he figures they may both have to hand in their “strictly straight” cards after this. 

“Come on,” Dean whispers, picking up on his hesitation. “Do you want to do this or not? I can sing to you some more if you need more convincin—”

“God, no,” Sam groans. “I'll do anything if you promise you won't sing to me in public ever again.”

He topples backwards onto his bed and pulls Dean on top of him. 

Dean grins.

“Anything?”


End file.
